Part 4: Unraveling The Pattern
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Connie stood frozen in her kitchen, staring at the door.
She had already heard this exact sequence of knocks before.
She knew the next thing that would happen. The doorknob would rattle. The lock would click. The door would start to open.
And if she failed again, the loop would restart, trapping her in the same terrifying moment.
Her breath came out uneven as her pulse raced. This wasn't just some bizarre coincidence.
This was real.
Her mind reeled with possibilities, trying to make sense of it. What had triggered the reset? What were the rules of this phenomenon?
Her eyes darted around the apartment. Everything was the same. The kettle still whistled. Her phone was in her hand. The room temperature, the lighting—nothing had changed.
Only she remembered.
Her throat felt dry.
If the loop had restarted, that meant the intruder was still outside. Still coming for her.
Her hands tightened into fists. If she did nothing, everything would repeat.
But this time—this time, she had a chance to act first.
The doorknob rattled.
She moved.
Connie lunged for the door, heart hammering as she grabbed a heavy metal pan from the kitchen counter. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
The doorknob twisted—
She swung the pan hard against the wood.
*BANG*
The sudden, deafening impact reverberated through the whole apartment complex. Her hands vibrated painfully from the force of it, but she didn't let go.
Outside, the man stopped.
A long, suffocating silence followed.
Then—
Footsteps.
He was leaving.
Connie barely breathed, straining to hear. The footsteps faded down the hall, becoming more distant.
Her body remained tense, her muscles locked in place.
Was it… really over?
She waited. One second. Two. A full minute.
No more sounds. No more rattling doorknob.
Her grip on the pan loosened.
Her phone buzzed.
Connie's heart skipped a beat.
Her fingers trembled as she pulled out the device. A new message had arrived.
[Death Flag Resolved. Points: 8.]
Her breath caught.
She gained five points.
Higher than last time.
Was it because this one had been more dangerous? More difficult?
Her hands clenched around the phone as she stared at the glowing text.
She had done it.
She had broken the loop.
But the realization didn't bring relief—it only brought more questions.
Connie forced herself to sit down at the small kitchen table, trying to calm her racing thoughts.
She was still shaking.
She'd resolved two death flags now—the train derailment and the intruder.
And each time, she had been awarded points.
Her breath came out slow and uneven.
This wasn't just some random time-travel glitch.
There was a system. A mechanism behind it.
But she still knew almost nothing about it.
Her fingers hovered over her phone's screen. Could she reply to the message? Ask who—or what—was behind this?
She tapped the notification.
Nothing happened.
There was no sender. No reply option.
Her jaw clenched. Of course.
Whoever was running this didn't want her to ask questions.
They only wanted her to clear death flags.
A bitter laugh almost escaped her.
Like she was some kind of pawn in their game.
Her hand curled into a fist.
She didn't know what this system was, but one thing was clear—it wasn't on her side.
And if she wanted answers, she'd have to figure them out herself.
---------
A short while ago—outside.
Officer Tadashi Mori stood near his patrol car, his hands idly flipping through the case file he had just received.
The dim streetlights barely illuminated the papers, but he had read enough reports to memorize faces at a glance.
Three home invasions.
One suspect.
And now—a positive ID.
The man in the file, Haruto Kaneshiro, had a string of prior arrests. Mostly small-time thefts. Nothing violent.
But something about this latest string of break-ins unsettled Mori.
The reports all described the same pattern—forced entry through quiet apartment buildings, no sign of rushed movement, almost like the thief knew which doors were safe to enter.
Mori exhaled slowly.
The last known address in the report was empty. His team had gone there earlier today, expecting to bring him in, but the place had been completely abandoned.
Which meant—Kaneshiro was still out there.
Somewhere.
And if the guy was still active, there was no telling whose door he would knock on next.
Mori's grip on the papers tightened.
A sound caught his attention—a loud bang.
It came from one of the nearby apartment buildings.
His eyes snapped up.
A few windows lit up at the noise, but no one came outside.
And then—a door opened.
A man stepped out of the complex.
Mori froze.
It was him.
Haruto Kaneshiro.
For a split second, the suspect didn't notice him. **His hands were in his pockets, his face tense, his movements too controlled—**like he had just been startled out of something.
He was about to keep walking.
Mori's instincts kicked in.
"Hey! Stop right there!"
Kaneshiro's head jerked up.
His body tensed—
Then he turned to run.
Mori was already moving.
He lunged forward, catching the man's wrist before he could break into a full sprint.
Kaneshiro twisted violently, trying to yank free.
"Don't make this worse for yourself!" Mori barked, locking his grip.
A brief struggle—but it didn't last long.
Mori was trained for this.
He slammed the suspect against the patrol car, twisting his arm behind his back.
A hiss of pain.
Then—cold metal clicked.
Cuffs secured.
Mori exhaled, pressing his shoulder radio.
"Suspect apprehended," he reported. "Haruto Kaneshiro. Found leaving an apartment complex near 5th and Nakamura. I need backup for transport."
A crackle of static. Then—
"Copy that, Officer Mori. We're sending a unit now."
Mori glanced down at Kaneshiro.
The man wasn't even struggling anymore.
Like he had already given up.
Like he knew he wasn't getting out of this.
"…You guys are faster than I thought," Kaneshiro muttered, voice bitter.
Mori gave him a sharp look. "You were bound to slip up."
Kaneshiro let out a dry chuckle.
Then—he frowned.
"Wait…" His brows furrowed slightly. "How'd you even know I was here?"
Mori hesitated.
Because he didn't.
He had been checking the files.
Then a loud noise happened.
And then the suspect walked right into his line of sight.
It was almost too perfect.
His gaze flicked toward the apartment building.
Somewhere in there—someone had made a lot of noise at just the right time.
Someone had spooked Kaneshiro enough to make him leave.
Mori's lips pressed into a thin line.
He didn't believe in coincidences.
But whatever had just happened…
Someone in that building had just saved themselves—and they didn't even know it.
--------
Connie's apartment.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Connie's body jerked upright.
No. No, no, no—
Her breath came out ragged. Her mind screamed at her that it wasn't possible.
She had already resolved the flag.
The man was gone.
So why was there another knock?
A familiar voice called out.
"Connie? It's me."
Her pulse stilled.
Ayaka.
She staggered to her feet, still gripping the pan in one hand.
"Ayaka?" Her voice came out unsteady.
"Yeah. I was just passing by and saw your lights on. You okay?"
Connie hesitated.
The timing… was too perfect.
The loop had never lasted long enough for Ayaka to show up before.
So why now?
Her mind raced. Could her friend's sudden arrival be another consequence of breaking the loop?
Was this another death flag waiting to happen?
She didn't know.
And that terrified her.
Her fingers hovered over the lock.
Should she open the door?
Or should she stay silent?
Her stomach twisted.
She had to decide—fast.
Higher than last time.
Was it because this one had been more dangerous? More difficult?
Her hands clenched around the phone as she stared at the glowing text.
She had done it.
She had broken the loop.
But the realization didn't bring relief—it only brought more questions.
Connie forced herself to sit down at the small kitchen table, trying to calm her racing thoughts.
She was still shaking.
She'd resolved two death flags now—the train derailment and the intruder.
And each time, she had been awarded points.
Her breath came out slow and uneven.
This wasn't just some random time-travel glitch.
There was a system. A mechanism behind it.
But she still knew almost nothing about it.
Her fingers hovered over her phone's screen. Could she reply to the message? Ask who—or what—was behind this?
She tapped the notification.
Nothing happened.
There was no sender. No reply option.
Her jaw clenched. Of course.
Whoever was running this didn't want her to ask questions.
They only wanted her to clear death flags.
A bitter laugh almost escaped her.
Like she was some kind of pawn in their game.
Her hand curled into a fist.
She didn't know what this system was, but one thing was clear—it wasn't on her side.
And if she wanted answers, she'd have to figure them out herself.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Connie's body jerked upright.
No. No, no, no—
Her breath came out ragged. Her mind screamed at her that it wasn't possible.
She had already resolved the flag.
The man was gone.
So why was there another knock?
A familiar voice called out.
"Connie? It's me."
Her pulse stilled.
Ayaka.
She staggered to her feet, still gripping the pan in one hand.
"Ayaka?" Her voice came out unsteady.
"Yeah. I was just passing by and saw your lights on. You okay?"
Connie hesitated.
The timing… was too perfect.
The loop had never lasted long enough for Ayaka to show up before.
So why now?
Her mind raced. Could her friend's sudden arrival be another consequence of breaking the loop?
Was this another death flag waiting to happen?
She didn't know.
And that terrified her.
Her fingers hovered over the lock.
Should she open the door?
Or should she stay silent?
Her stomach twisted.
She had to decide—fast.